


A Second Job

by mariachillin



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Smut, i actually hate it's guts now, i wrote this joke as a fic lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariachillin/pseuds/mariachillin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson did a lot of things for a lot of people. He was nice like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Job

Phil Coulson did a lot of things for a lot of people. He was nice like that. So when Natasha rushed into his office and shut the door, he already knew she was in there to ask him a favor. He knew this because she had this thing where she’d pretend like she rushed all the way from her office like she needed help in a hurry. This was the set up for when he gave his answer—which was always yes—so she could leave hastily without him being able to relish in the fact that she needed him for something. Phil knew that in all actuality she walked to his office in a perfectly calm manner and about five feet from his door she’d take a three-step run into his office, pretending to be out of breath. It was absolutely adorable. He may or may not have happened upon it on the security feeds and played it over and over on numerous occasions. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. That was beside the point. Apparently today she’d done the “worst of the worst.” Words from the Black Widow herself. She’d gone on a coffee date with the god of mischief, Loki, brother of the god of thunder, Thor. Loki hadn’t been up to much lately, so he wasn’t exactly  _wanted_  but it was a well-known fact that the Director hated his guts and Natasha obviously  _really_  wanted to keep this under wraps. Coulson raised a simple brow in question. Coffee was coffee, so why was she making such a big deal of it? She could easily say she just happened to bump into him while there;  _everyone_  loved coffee. Her uncharacteristic blush told him all he needed, but didn’t want, to know. Yeah. Fury would flip his shit if he found out. But how would he? The man had a way of knowing things, but this was a bizarre instance. Coulson himself was finding it hard to believe. And he liked to think he’d seen it all. With further embarrassment evident on her face, Natasha went on to tell him that an agent had stopped by her apartment to drop off some files she’d requested and heard her screaming Loki’s name at the top of her lungs. Coulson cringed at the mental image and waved the conversation away. He promised her he’d take care of it. He had ways of making Fury listen…. Or not listen. Ways that confused him and the Director alike. But ways, nonetheless.

Three quick knocks a half an hour later had Coulson at Fury’s office door with a coffee—black—and the reports from yesterday’s nonexistent events. It was a slow week at SHIELD this week and while Coulson was grateful, he was still very bored. He took pride in writing up reports. But it was no fun when there was nothing to report. Logic. Fury called out for whoever it was disturbing his Thursday morning to come in and Coulson stepped in and shut the door behind him. He always had to stifle a laugh whenever he saw Fury doing paperwork with reading glasses on. It was just a funny sight to see a man with an eyepatch wearing glasses. Didn’t make sense, but hey; there it was. Coulson walked over to the fancy leather chair in front Fury’s big fancy desk and took a seat.

“I bought you coffee, sir.”

“Put it on the desk. I’ll get to it eventually.”

“I also wrote up that report you were going to ask me for, but hadn’t gotten around to doing yet.”

“Put it on the desk. I’ll get to it eventually.”

“Sir.”

“Coulson.”

“Are you expecting anyone this morning?”

“…”

Fury finally looked up from what he was working on to stare at Coulson. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three time.

“Why?”

“I was hoping to take a few minutes of your time.”

“For?”

Coulson swallowed. He never knew how to answer this. He’d come to Fury’s office for what he came for this morning on only three previous occasions. All of which the Director played oblivious up until the point where he couldn’t anymore. Coulson took a deep breath.

“I’ve answered this before, sir.”

“You’ve answered a lot of questions I’ve asked, Coulson.”

“My reluctance to again answer this one should answer the question for you.”

Fury put his pen down and regarded Coulson again. For a man with one eye, that one eye could pierce through somebody twice as thoroughly as anyone with two. Coulson resisted the urge to wipe his brow. He did, however, allow himself another swallow.

“What can I do for you, Agent Coulson?”

Coulson tugged slightly at his tie.

“Sir, you know what I want.”

The Director raised an eyebrow and took off his reading glasses slowly, regarding Coulson once more. There was a hint of hunger in the look he was giving Coulson, but he wouldn’t have recognized it had he not seen it before.

“Do I?”

“You should.”

Fury once stated that he hated and loved at the same time how fast Coulson could reply to any statement or question he ever had. The agent was a quick wit even though he didn’t seem like he would be with the exterior calmness he possessed. Director Fury smirked a small smirk.

“I do.”

Coulson lifted a slightly confused brow. This played out differently every time and he didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. Fury was a troll. He loved to throw people for a loop; enjoyed watching the confusion flash across their faces. Coulson had just fallen victim for maybe the millionth time.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Coulson?”

“I want it.”

The first time Coulson had ever come into Fury’s office under these circumstances was a while ago when Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had decided to pull a prank on Clint Barton by jumping him in the SHIELD Men’s Locker Room. Or it should be stated—for the record—that Tony Stark convinced Steve Rogers to tag along while  _he_  jumped Clint Barton in the locker room. It was supposedly general understanding that they simply wanted him to be prepared to fight at any given moment … Instead, it had turned into a full-blown threesome. About twenty trainees were witnesses to this event and when Fury got wind of it, he was pissed. The Director wanted to know precisely “what the hell they were thinking” and “why the hell they would do something so unprofessional when he was trying to recruit new agents, dammit.” It was that occurrence, however, that got SHIELD forty more recruits within that very week. But before that, Tony Stark had pulled Coulson to the side and insisted that he talked to the Director; get him to cool down a bit. Coulson didn’t understand. Stark went on to explain that of all the agents and heroes, Fury took Coulson the most serious. It was obviously everyone’s speculation that Fury held Coulson on some sort of pedestal and valued his opinion more than anyone’s. This was news to Coulson. Until he showed up and it happened.

“Why?”

“You should know why.”

“Stop fuckin’ around, Coulson.”

With a resigned sigh, Coulson got up from his seat and walked almost timidly around the Director’s desk. Having gone through this before, Fury slid his chair back away from the desk to give Coulson room to perch himself there, right in the middle of the large calendar underneath whatever files Fury had been going over. He looked up at Fury who was trying to hold off a smile. That, in turn, made Coulson want to smile. It was a confusing thing, this thing that they had. Some would call it cute, fluffy. Coulson would just call it  _them_.  Fury slid his desk chair forward so that he was eye-level with Coulson’s abdomen and placed both of his hands on the agent’s thighs. No words were needed at this point. They locked eyes and Coulson found himself holding back a dreamy sigh. The Director always knew how to handle him. Most would think that Director Fury would be a rough man with selfish intentions, but he was the exact opposite. Coulson didn’t know if it was with everyone or just him, but Fury put Coulson first.  Made him feel like nothing else mattered but him. It was nice.

Coulson kept his eyes on Fury’s expensive watch as the Director’s hand made for Coulson’s zipper, unzipping it tauntingly slow. The verbal exchange alone, as brief and dry as it was, had Coulson’s erection growing by the second. He swallowed again. Fury freed him from the confines of his briefs and Coulson let out a breath as the cold air of the spacious office breezed over his semi-soft cock. Fury’s dark hand wrapped around it. The speed in which Fury had the ability to get him hard was record-breaking for Coulson. He liked beautiful women as much as the next man, but this man—a man of such power and respect—taking the time to touch him in the most intimate of ways was beyond imagination. He shuddered.

“Relax.”

Fury’s deep voice washed over him and leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling. Fury’s hand began to slowly stroke him up and down. It was a gentle, but firm grip; a thumb up to smear the precum dripping over the mushroom head of Coulson’s—now fully hard—erection. The Director was very good at this as Coulson honestly assumed most men were. They practiced enough on themselves to know exactly what to do. But maybe that was just what Coulson told himself as not to worry about any past male lovers the Director may have given such treatment to. He’d hate to think he was getting clingy and/or jealous for nothing. This wasn’t a relationship they were in. At least… Coulson didn’t think so. The thought vanished as he felt Fury’s lips move over him. Coulson hissed loudly. He’d never get used to the Director sucking his cock.  _Ever_. There was so much behind the act, much more influential than the physicality of it. This man was one of the bravest, manliest, combative men he knew. For him to willingly wrap his lips around his very subordinate agent’s dick and suck it like his life depended on it had to mean more than the Director let on.  _It had to_. Coulson berated himself not to think about it. 

Fury’s head bobbed up and down as he swirled his tongue around the tip of Coulson’s cock, his hands working together with his lips as they met constantly in the middle of it. Sliding his hands down, Fury gently massaged Coulson’s balls as he took Coulson fully into his mouth and held him there for about 3 seconds, no gag. Coulson thought he would cum right there. When Fury finally lifted his head, spit covered the entire length of Coulson’s member. It was dark reddish-purple and so hard, one could speculate that it looked painful. Coulson could confirm that his desire to cum was. But the Director was a smart man. He knew Coulson was close, but he wanted him to wait. He wanted Coulson to wait so they could cum together. Coulson had noticed that this was something the Director liked.

As Fury had issued the blow job, he had also worked Coulson’s suit pants from around his waist; they now fell loosely at his ankles. Standing, Fury undid his own pants as Coulson sat, panting heavily on the desk. Once Fury’s pants were to the floor, the Director reached to slide down his boxers, but was stopped by Coulson’s hand darting out to beat him to the punch. The Director looked at him with a look that clearly said, “by all means.” Coulson didn’t immediately do away with Fury’s boxers. The large outline of Fury’s cock excited and intimidated Coulson at the same time. The first time he’d seen it, his facial expression was so priceless that in a moment of all seriousness, Fury had burst into a fit of laughter. The man was almost abnormally large. And what shocked Coulson the most was that he could take it all. Coulson slid off the desk and pulled the Director’s boxers down to his ankles. He dropped in a squatting position as he did so and licked his tongue from the base of Fury’s cock all the way to the tip. And what a way it was. Coulson brought his whole mouth around Fury’s tip and sucked hard while his tongue made quick work of the slit.

“Fuck…”

Coulson smirked as he continued. Fury liked it when Coulson did that. Coulson liked that Fury liked it. He carried on in the same fashion for a half a minute until Fury squeezed his shoulder. That was the cue. Coulson stood. It was rare that they made eye contact while this went on. Not because either of them didn’t want to, but mostly because neither of them ever tried. Coulson was afraid to make contact with the Director during intercourse. There was no explanation as to why. He just was. Maybe if they kept this up, it’d happen. Coulson wondered if that would make it more emotional. Lifting his shirt and suit jacket that he still wore, he turned around bent silently over the Director’s desk, offering himself in the best way he could. Fury stepped up soon after. Coulson liked to think that the seconds he usually took just standing there, Fury was admiring the view. The thought always brought a hidden smile to his face. Coulson could hear the desk drawer open and close followed by a squirting sound before he felt Fury’s fingers sliding past his balls to his anus with a cool gel. He let out a shaky sigh. The gel was cool, but not uncomfortably so. Coulson’s forehead hit the desk as Fury slid one finger inside of him. Then two. The Director stroked repeatedly until Coulson set a rhythm in which he moved his hips back in time with Fury’s fingers. Sliding them out, Fury quickly replaced his fingers with his cock as he pushed tentatively into Coulson. They both let out a relieved sigh, although Coulson’s was a lot more of a hiss than anything. Fury fingers dug into his hips as he steadied himself before slowly pulling out and pushing just as slowly back in. It was torture for Coulson; sweet, blissful torture. The agent bit on his lip to remain silent save for hisses and light gasps. Fury sped up a beat and soon was grunting with every thrust. Coulson pushed back as Fury pushed forward and they worked in perfect harmony to bring it other to that common point. Reaching around him, Fury pumped Coulson cock from behind and Coulson couldn’t help the very audible groan that came just at the same time he did. Fury wasn’t far behind. The Director pumped harder and faster and within seconds he came, a soft, low whisper falling from his lips.

“Coulson…”

Fury slid himself out of Coulson with an inaudible ‘pop’ and Coulson heard the desk drawer open once again. He kept his forehead to the desk, unable to move quite yet and sighed with a smile as he felt himself being wiped off. Fury took his time, taking the towel gently between Coulson’s cheeks and getting all he could. When he was through, he pulled Coulson’s briefs up first, securing them around his waist and pulled up his pants next. Coulson relished in the fact that, even after it was all over, Fury still took the time to take care of him. He zipped Coulson up, but left the belt undone as it would have been difficult to buckle in their position. Fury tapped Coulson’s ass twice.

“I’m good, but I’m not that good. You can get up now.”

“You underestimate yourself, Director.”

Coulson did his belt and turned to find the Director perfectly composed. He found it be a little creepy.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you.”

Coulson smiled his trademark smile and once he, himself, was composed, he nodded curtly and exited the Director’s office. His mission for the day had been accomplished. When Fury eventually heard the news of Natasha and Loki, he would be in such high spirits that he wouldn’t give the slightest fuck. Coulson sat down—gingerly—in his office chair and sent out a text to Natasha.

_You’re good._

With that, Coulson resumed his work. In a week or so, someone would do something and he’d be back on the job again. But damn did he love it.


End file.
